8.31.08 | August Rush

The great 28 is fast approaching and many to-do's adorn the list for the next year -- including, but not limited to, Paris and bikini's, and Iceland & India, maybe. All I want for my birthday is a meditation cushion and a night up at the Flagstaff lookout with a handful of favorite people.

August has been a fast month of separation and lighening up for this cowgirl of the beautiful blonde horses. My new entrepreneurial spirit has caught wind of a place called The 'Mat: Laundry & Yoga, "do laundry. find inner peace." www.laundrozen.com. It'll be huge. And, it will be next to my raw restaurant...

7.14.08 | paradessence

Jack Kerouac said: "Be in love with your life -- Every detail of it."

That's what I'm trying to do through this summer's ebbs and flows and unfoldings, as there are a lot of big yet subtle happenings on the docket. Boulder offers a beautiful space to soak up summers lush harvests and arid trails, so we're taking things one day at a time here - never knowing what's next and honing in on what it is that we really want. Our garden has officially exploded, and this isn't even its peak. I'm learning a lot about love, as well as growth, and am religious about my walks. Sometimes Finn and his pink tongue withstands the temperature to join me for a jaunt. I keep reminding myself that I'm only 27 -- But I'm almost 28 and the return of Saturn is upon me with an unnerving sense of urgency (this impending birthday is quite auspicious, I've been told). I recently made 5 paintings revolving around various greens, pinks and reds -- in what I'd call a moment of afflatus & whim -- and daresay that I impressed myself with the mode of experimentation. Tomorrow night is Feist in concert at the Fillmore. Soon, I'll be embarking on a brief road trip / friend delivery west side: LA (via Vegas!)... just for a spell, to eat raw things and enjoy old and fabulous friends and Smalls, my hero.

6.24.08 | X

Maybe it's the remaining thrill from the screenings at the GAIA film festival this past weekend, or maybe it's the thrill of next weekend's gong bath? Maybe it's the integral intimacy books, all the myths surrounding the Midsummer's Eve, or the ravishing I've done to the garden. Maybe it's the note from the cosmos that said to unleash all creativity now and the new blog? Maybe it's the Tuesday yoga (same mat time, same mat channel) and all that deep breathing... Whatever it is, I feel like a rad little body ready to make love to the world.

6.18.08 | Drenched in moon

After an exhilarating yoga class at the Yoga Workshop last night (and hearing the news that The Fraggle Rock movie is coming out in '09), tonight followed suit with high vibrations that tingled and tangled through my core. The evening's itinerary was as follows:

Raw-potluck at the neighbors house & a rustic table spread wide with living foods and rose petal salads; a vow to add the rose petals to smoothies & munchies & perhaps, ice cream; Chris Pureka opening for Gregory Alan Isakov & the Freight at the intimate and antique Chatauqua Community house - perhaps the most perfect and fitting venue for the Gregory & friends -- all under the that full-bellied moon. Oh, the loveliness...

During the encore, while feeling totally and momentarily blissed out, that last song echoed Rumi, with a little more twang:

"I drank all the wine I could drink / I sang all the songs I could sing / I told all the lies I could tell / And I'm comin home, comin home again"

tomorrow: rose petals for breakfast...

6.7.08 | unfurling in the sun

On the dramatic, rainy spring Wednesday night this past week, I met a friend up on campus to listen to a talk by Nina Utne, of the Utne Reader, at the Media, Spirituality, & Culture conference. The talk was personal & pertinent, but seemed a bit of a digest when viewed from inside 'the bubble' that is Boulder. She talked about her place in space -- her old house and it's need for retro-fitting for the eco-future that is upon us -- and said that as the compact flourescents turned on, one turned on in her head, thus forming the idea of Future-Fit. Thus, her latest mission (which already has a young and active following). Yet, as intrigued as I was, I wasn't sated. I felt like there was so much that was left out (of the talk), however the idea of the trademarked Future-Fit was indeed fitting for the future and the now.

The talk was proceeded by a soiree on the 4th floor of Old Main. I was invited up and accompanied a dear thesis advisor & proceeded to schmooze with scholars I was supposed to have read & highlighted back in my academic hay-day. I chatted it up with Ron Grimes, Lynn Ross-Bryant, and a professor from the Parson's School of Design in New York. Spontaneous and convivial conversations followed about Ph.D.s, publishing thesis into books, the slow turning of the academy, unspoken languages and the re-emergence of other forms of academic expression, outside of the standard text. It was lovely. It was unexpected. It made me want to go back to school. Most of all, it made me want to create a life that was full and intense, one that included time to write.

The rain that quenched the Boulder Valley this week, dissolved into an enchanting Thursday evening. The clear, periwinkle sky of the after-5 hours, flowed into a pristine cerulean twilight with a sliver for a moonscape - one of my favorites.

Last night, while enjoying the seasonal menu transition at Leaf with friends, the first line of the first chapter of one of my future books was discovered: "He was patient, and she was 25." [...]

5.26.08 | gargantuan waves of change and surfing to dazzling new heights

"What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the master calls a butterfly." - Chuang Tse

"I can't understand why people are afraid of new ideas, I'm afraid of the old ones."- John Cage

"Let the body think of the spirit as streaming, pouring, rushing and shining into it from all sides." -Plotinus

In recent news: We have a garden, a strong foundation for new growth, and kale and jack o'lanterns. We'll have to see what comes of it, as there have been seismic shifts taking place. It's cosmic, and it's coming in the form of feelings over rationalizations. Something about Pluto moving into Capricorn. I've learned much in these past few weeks 'tween blog posts. So far, it feels AOK. I am at session 9 of the rolfing series, and feel like it is working miracles on my little self and its relation to the big ol' world. Plus, it helps to have a cool rolfer.

A few notable unfurlings as of late have resulted in a resurgence of inspiration, a greater awareness of space, and a couple heartbreaking works of eye opening gratitude lessons. In order of happening: 1.) I began reading, and finished in record time, Dave Egger's A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius and was in awe of his trains of thoughts splattered across the page, his inner dialogue, his understanding of the Lattice, and his philosophy on raising children while only being in his mere 20s. 2.) I began a rolfing session in an attempt to uncover some underlying bodily holding patterns (self imposed) that may be limiting me (even though I am well aware that if I set my mind to it, I can do anything) and to experience the unbearable lightness of being. I was tired and tired of waiting to invest in such an endeavor, and decided to finally seize the day by learning to let go with Fascial manipulation, etc. 3.) I caught a film on campus -- two actually -- both inherently fabulous in their portrayals of their respective themes and theses. The first being Girls Rock (need I say more?) about a band/rockstar camp for girls. The second was the French and the subtitled, and the poignant and beautiful, and gripping and cathartic, film: The Diving Bell and the Butterfly (about Elle Editor Jean-Dominique Bauby and his valiant and moving experience of writing a book with the blink of his eye - if only it was that easy). I cannot recommend TDB&TB enough. It made me want to savor every single moment even more.

ebullient, adj.: Bubbling with enthusiasm or excitement.

"This earth is honey for all beings, and all beings are honey for this earth. The intelligent, immortal being, the soul of the earth, and the intelligent, immortal being, the soul in the individual being -- each is honey to the other." - Brihadaranyaka Upanishad

3.28.08 | sitting in the lotus

"And then the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom." Anais Nin

3.23.08 | red & full moons

"It's a full moon. Any kind of madness is permissible."

My mom turned 50 last weekend and my sister and I flew out from our respective residences and surprised her. Memories and forward thoughts happened, as well as plenty of hilarity.

Then, my dear and beautiful pal Al flew in for a quick visit. I have her relocation to Boulder all planned out -- job, place to live, beautiful mates. I'm convinced Boulder will love her, and she will love it. But, as we learned at a talk at the Boulder Bookstore on Thursday night by Thomas Moore: the advice of friends is merely what they want for you. On a good Friday indeed, I filled in the best part of the plan, and had a surprise co-conspirator. The possibilities made me giddy. That night, we got to enjoy the swede-argentinian folk tunes of Jose Gonzalez at the FOX-- a tall, dark and handsome fellow with amazingly thick curly hair that you just want to reach out and touch forever.

I was reading an interview with Johnny Depp a while back. One of the things he said was: "Don't go out mid-sentance." Say what you want to say while you're here. I've always been like that, and have plenty of awkward and semi-cheezy moments under my belt. But, overall it's treated me well. Back in undergrad, I was perpetually like this. Sometimes, I look back and laugh (and thank some holy graces that I'm pretty unthreatening). And, I think it's coming back. That crazy voice is surfacing again.

But aside from speaking and saying what rocks you and what empassions you in the heat of the moment, living it certainly follows. You can't be all hat and no cattle. How to follow the dream path and 'live it', while remaining true to immediate responsibilities, has been a perpetual question in conversations with friends as of late. I'm unsure why this question is so impending, but it is.

The saffron is still blossoming along the sidewalks here. Tis the season for cleaning out the garden and planting new seeds. I've been watching the TED conference videos, and find them terribly brilliant and moving. I'm eternally grateful that they are on the worldwide-innertubes. It's like YouTube for the thinking person.

"Play is spontaneous behavior that has no clear-cut goal and does not conform to a stereotypical pattern. The purpose of play is simply play itself; it appears to be pleasurable."

"Act as if what you do makes a difference. It does." -William James, psychologist

"When you are talking about art, you are talking about God indirectly; all experience of art is an indirect experience of God." - Sister Wendy Beckett

3.6.08 | peeking crocus

This past weekend, on a walk, the little purple crocus were already rising from their niveous slumber, anxious for spring. Crocus mean spring and saffron, two very delicate things.

I, too, started to come out of hibernation last week: it was the Banff Mountain Film festival that started it all. I've noted before how inspiring this event is as we start to crawl out from under winter. Both of the long films were fabulous this year -- one had Bozeman connections, and another tapped at my love of biology and indigenous mythos. Little events, small connections were made in just a couple of days that seemed like budding promises of greater connections as this year winds on. I met Brigitte Mars at Sunflower while waiting for a table; one of my favorite massage therapists is from my hometown, I replenished my prayer flag supply, and my most favorite waiter has returned to my most favorite restaurant. I couldn't ask for more, really.

Last night, we went to elevision -- Boulder's local indie mag of mindfulness' filming of online 'shows'. It was a great night for live viewing -- including a soul healing from Dr. Sha, and the expounding of the Feminine Principle. Mix in a dash of the benefits of greening-buildings, and the musical collaboration of the Gregory's fiddle player, and you've end up with a night of epic elevision. We topped it off with namaste carrot cake and a lively discussion of the nature of relationships and examples of the feminine principle at work. I got to divulge my perennial buddhist wisdom, and that made me infinitely happy. As it always has. I've still got my academic groove.

In other news, www.desultoryandmellifluous.com will now lead you to this little blog-ditty. Another blog may be on it's way...it's time to start manifesting cookies.

2.7.08 | Circles, centers, movement

"Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all of the barriers within yourself that you have built against it."

So many things come full circle. And it always makes me feel good when they do, because it gives me a sense of where I've been and where I am, and sometimes I'm amazed at how some values and dreams really don't change that much. It makes me feel like I've been moving in the right direction. Even if there have been a few detours, I always come back to some semblance of 'center'.

Last night for example, at the BCHA Annual Meeting, Cherry Hill of www.horsekeeping.com was the speaker. Way back in 1991, my dad bought me my first non-fiction horse book: Becoming an Effective Rider. I can still remember seeing it sit on the shelf at the bookstore in the Shopko Plaza called Little Professor. I remember the image on the cover. I poured over that book when I wasn't blazing through the Saddle Club Series at the tender age of 11. It was wild to think that the woman who may have instilled the first thoughts of effecitve horsemanship into my little self I would meet and see speak some 17 years later.

Just within the past couple weeks, ideas/thoughts/similar events/memories/new acquaintances with old connections have randomly come up in conversation or have been realized. In the sense that I could trace that memory to a feeling / happening / value and follow it's progression and flow up until the present. Even though it may have seemingly blipped off the radar for a spell. So many things have come back... Or maybe it's me that's coming back.

"I guess it shouldn't surprise us to find ourselves linked with the stars. Every atom of gold or silver jewelry was created in supernovas. The water we drink, the air we breathe, the ground we walk, the complicated pouch of fluids and salts and minerals and bones we are -- all forged in some early chaos of our sun. I think it was the astrophysicist John Wheeler who remarked that we are the sun's way of thinking about itself."
-Diane Ackerman, A Slender Thread: Rediscovering Hope at the Heart of Crisis

1.24.08 | magical and rad

"The capacity to blunder slightly is the real marvel of DNA. Without this special attribute, we would still be anaerobic bacteria and there would be no music." - Lewis Thomas, from The Lives of a Cell

February is booking up to be quite the month of art and music and love in the Denver/Boulder metroplex. I have a little gig as a doodler for a site that needs some digital and traditional doodles. My friend / fellow artist /German tutor, Anya of Spellbound art, has a gallery showing through the entire month of Feb in a space in gallery-row on Santa Fe St. in Denver. I've also been asked to do-up some pieces that will grace a stairwell in a new home in Woodbury, MN.

Musical happenings include but are not limited to numerous Gregory Alan Isakov shows (i think we have tix for 4...). I had the chance to catch him live at my favorite local coffee house a couple weekends ago -- he played new stuff, i believe -- and 4 songs was surely not enough of this fair fellow's hauntingly beautiful singing and strumming. I *highly* recommend checking out his work. Simple and lovely, moving landscapes and storylines. Matt Nathanson is also swinging thru town at the Fox theatre. (April 1 brings Nada Surf, who i've been sampling as of late). 'More music' was a request for the new year, so February should keep things in tune.

In this upcoming fabled month of love, I've been thinking much about the heart chakra, too. Mine needs some exploration and expansion...I've been trying to doodle out these meditations with watercolor and ink (in the spirit of Sabrina Ward Harrison), but it's getting long & windy. (The resolution doodle was kinda cute and fridge worthy, if I do say so myself. ;)

1.1.08 | What is new and good

Another trip around the sun in our wake. Work has been lackidaisical the past few holiday weeks, which has certainly been reminiscent of the 'christmas break' pattern that has instilled itself deep in my perennial rhythms due to all those years of school. I've embarked on some new projects (the cutest dog in boulder, and knitting), distilled some thoughts about the new year, ventured out to NoBo Park for some skate skiing and made some fun new recipes.

I have mad hopes for the new year, delusions of grandeur and publishing contracts (lol!), but I really have no idea what I'll meet on the trip through 2008. Last year was an intense year of growth and nuture for this little self, and I learned that to take care of our selves, our innermost (biology, emotions, soul) and outermost self (biology, ecology, universe), with honest, soulful nourishment, is all we really need to do. Continuing in that tradition of toasting to self-vific wholeness, I toasted this blessed morning with a quart of grapefruit juice and a green elixir.

We met up with a group of friends last night to ring in the new year with an ounce of traditional traditions, though we were quite the untraditional group. Gravitas chatter abounded about the suspect of big shifts in the months that follow. Spurred by politics, but also by a yearning for the emergence of a consciousness that will bring forth something new, and something good.

Three cheers for the 2008:

"You never change things by fighting the existing reality. To change something, build a new model that makes the existing model obsolete." — R. Buckminster Fuller, from Critical Path

"Live at the empty heart of paradox. I'll dance with you there, cheek to cheek." -Rumi

"The dust of exploded beliefs may make a fine sunset." -Geoffrey Madan, writer (1895-1947)

And, a standing Ovation (from RobB's newsletter):

"There is a vitality, a life force, a quickening that is translated through you into action, and because there is only one of you in all time, this expression is unique. If you block it, it will never exist through any other medium. It will be lost. The world will not have it. It is not your business to determine how good it is, nor how valuable it is, nor how it compares with other expressions. It is your business to keep it yours clearly and directly, to keep the channel open." - Martha
Graham, quoted by Agnes de Mille, Dance to the Piper and Promenade Home

12.22.07 | the beauty, the simplicity, the goodness...the rawness.

I feel like a new person on this dawning of the winter solstice. I've been eating raw for the past 4 weeks. Mental clarity, day-long energy, enhanced mood. All of this while eating the nature's bounty in its most unadulterated format.

This was a natural shift for me because of my lifestyle and eating habits that had been in place for the past 7 years or so. I've given up my past dependance on soy -- switched to rice milk, cut waaaay back on tofu/tempeh, so much that I don't even buy it now. (The next step is to switch to nut-milk, such as almond milk) now that I'm not munching on cereal all day. Wow, i haven't really had granola in 4 weeks! Essentially, my diet consists of fruits, veggies, seeds, nuts, oils, beautifully juiced juices, rad smoothies, salads, and fabulous creations involving nuts an seeds (don't forget the dark chocolate!). Everything I've made has been a orgy in my mouth and belly (and further down the line). And, it's SO simple! (and really good for the planet!).

It's so much more than twigs and berries...

As some of you may know, my sister used to manage a raw restaurant in Calif. called Leaf. After talking to her over Thanksgiving, I decided to give this rawness a try, especially after she made some raw nori rolls. By the end of my first raw week, I could already feel a tremendous change in my body and energy levels. I was SOLD, and I'm not going back.

There have been some books and blogs that inspired this and have been great resources:

The Raw Food Detox Diet, by Natalia Rose --> the best, most digestible and doable introduction (and transition) to raw out there. This book could transform your edible lifestyle!

one hot reason to eat raw: http://rawmodelcom.blogspot.com/

an inspiring reason to be raw: http://crazysexycancer.blogspot.com/

12.8.07 | frozen bliss

Snow drifted down like 'bleached flies' relentlessly yesterday. The first big dump of the season in the foothills yields just as much calm seasonal beauty as it does mild chaos, especially behind the wheel. Yesterday, I knit an ipod holder. Today, Finn and I ventured out around [winter] wonderland lake to train for snowshoeing season.

Since it's beginning to look a lot like christmas, and facebook has brought me two long-lost friend connections, the universal vibe of giving is frenetically in the air. My level of defiance heightens over the holidays because I sincerely feel this is a holiday gone awry -- it has become the season of thoughtless giving and mindless consumption. Bill McKibben sums up my feelings exactly in his eloquent spiel on Grist.org. Be brave.

11.17.07 | art & life

For some spectacular jentacular news: I juiced a fab mix this AM: 3 beets, beet greens, 4 apples, 4 celery sticks. I've been keeping up with the goings-on with the crazysexycancer blog by Kris Carr, thereinwhich she talks the talk about walking the walk of a raw diet with plenty of juice and it's tremendous healing benefits. It makes me want to hug my juicer, or at least get a travel sized one.

And now, a muse on the life of art:

This past week contained the birthdays of two greats: Claude Monet and Georgia O'Keefe (born in Sun Prairie, WI). Both were flower artiste' extraordinaires, which also happens to be my personal favorite subject when horses aren't around. These excerpts are from the Writer's Alamanac:

"In the last 30 years of his life, he painted almost nothing but the water lilies in his garden. Claude Monet, who said, "I am following Nature without being able to grasp her. I perhaps owe having become a painter to flowers.""

Re: O'Keefe: "...But when asked why she chose flowers as her subject, she said "Because they're cheaper than models and they don't move.""

I share the same sentiments regarding the general non-movements of flora vs. fauna, which is why I love to photograph them so much more -- for their stillness and their fluidity. I was reminded duringa recent massage by a masseuse-rolfer, that plants move too, in their own ways, with a slowness. The earth, too, is a moving, vivacious entity that we locomotive bipeds gravitate on, step by step, pulse by pulse. I'm certain I'll be revisiting rolfing later...

Over the past weekend, and spread out between two art-days, I finished my first painting since middle school. It is a piece inspired by the work of Lisa Kowalski, and another theme of mixed media followed into the week. The first reminds me of ebullience and effervescence. Apparently, companies hire the creative people, let's hope this is true.

handmade paper & acrylic on 18x24" canvas

handmade paper and acrylic on 18x24" canvas
custom made for Chiropractic & Acupuncture office

11.14.07 | breathe in the universe

This was headlining RobB's newsletter today:

"Now and again, it is necessary to seclude yourself among deep mountains and hidden valleys to restore your link to the source of life. Breathe in and let yourself soar to the ends of the universe; breathe out and let the cosmos back inside. Next, breathe up all the fecundity and vibrancy of the earth. Finally, blend the breath of heaven and the breath of the earth with that of your own, becoming the breathe of life itself." - Morihei Ueshiba Osensei

11.5.07 | forthwith!

Over the weekend, I indulged myself in art and reading (and raking, whether it be leaves, or dog mats). After a successful venture into metallic acrylics and a 18x24" canvas, I find myself intrigued by painting and fancy myself a budding painter.

In the evenings and a sunday afternoon, I would entertain my attention with texts oozing with eco-tones. In just two very indy magazines, I was awash with ideas that came flooding back from my idealistic Freshman year of undergrad. The days in which I took Buddhism class, watched the sky and ventured into emptiness, waxed poetic on the intensity of lively attention and activism of the Deep Ecologists... the days in which I still made my own clothes, biked to class, took long Thoreau-ian walks with unsuspecting friends, and read Snyder like he was going out of style. My Favorite poem of his is "For the Children" from his book, Turtle Island (a wee little book (from '74) with big, poignant ideas). It ends like this:

stay together
learn the flowers
go light

For some reason, this triptych of stanzas seemed to say as much as a 17 syllable haiku, only with less. It seemed to be a reiteration of another triptych of wisdom that I've kept close to mantra status since High school:

Slow down. Simplify. Be kind.

It's a quote from one Naomi Judd (yes, of those Judds). I uncovered this nugget while we were covering the Trancendentalists in Mrs. Bissel's English class, and I was amazed that it's source was not from the likes of Emersonian philosophy. Of course, when I 'met' Emerson and Thoreau, and their friends of their time (Coleridge, Alcott), I was certain I was reading the work of kindred spirits. I commissioned 4 paintings strewn with quotes from the period, and I still hang them in the bedroom space, no matter where we've lived.

In the fall issue of the Elephant -- Boulder's own indy publication for all things in support of the mindful life -- there's a fabulous stew of interviews and views and visions of green values in aware, motivated, action. (I highly recommend picking up a copy. Or e-me, and I'll send you mine). The lessons gleaned therein stem from the roots -- Practice, mindfulness in daily life, remembering your place in the cosmos, eating well and locally, living sustainably, fostering a green ethic of livelihood in your own space, voting smart with your dollars. Then, and only then, can you be of influence and inspiration to others to do the same.

In one interview, the Editor mentions that this recent uprising tide of green chatter is not really new -- it's been around since the 70s, and way before (living off the land sustainably? cultures have been doing that for milennia before us.) He wasn't slighting this fresh wave of greenies, but merely pointing out that it's trendy enough now for the media to latch onto it and (attempt) to feed the masses something, maybe, good for them. Coming back to English class and Life in the Woods, Louisa May Alcott wrote a small little tome based off of the 'commune' her father started. It's called "Transcedental Wild Oats" and was written in 1873. Certainly, this sustainable stuff has been around for a while... Tracable through the texts and images that've been found through history. From the first bouts of Agriculture in Mesopotamia (and the creative images of fertility in lyrical poems), to the Luddites of the industrial revolution who thwarted social technological inventions, to the hippies of the 60s/70s to today's latest greening (and all those instances in between. Like, the agricultural technologies of the Navajo indians in AZ and family farms, for instance.) So perhaps this trend isn't New, it's totally retro.

Rusted Root has a song called 'Back to the Earth.' It's one part shamanic chant, one part rock, and one part plea, I think. (It's stuck in my head right now.)

...Ah, back to the earth, I screamed and
And no one listened to me Back to the
earth I lived and they all follow

(On second thought, there's a potential it's just about getting high, but I guess I covered that with the shamanic descriptor.) Regardless, the back to the earth part is really quite nice. I'm not totally suggesting that we all live off the grid in earth homes in the desert of Northern NM, but if we meditate on our connections to the Earth and it's resources, or measure our degrees of disconnect, then we can begin to hone our green-mindfulness practice in all considerations of our daily life: how much trash do we produce? do we recycle all we can? do we walk or bike or bus or carpool as much as possible? do we live lightly or are we swarmed with our own clutter? Do we leave lights on or use them unneccessarily? do we heat and cool our homes beyond an efficient setting? do we support local organic argriculture and know where our food comes from? Do we use water sparingly, and boycott plastic water bottles? Do we always buy something new for self-gratification, or do we fix what we have when ever possible? Do we spend our money on local shops and businesses? Do we work on our own inner, unethically ungreen, ego-dark side so that we can thwart the American standards of consumerism, and bring some much needed soul to this nation?

I think we can. It starts with the first step, and the first step starts with you, your whole you. Here's an intentional quote from Paul Hawkin (from an interview in the Elephant, p 80):

"What we know about live, about biology is that trillions of things create each event. The sound of my voice, your sitting here. We cannot know the future. It's unknowable. And we cannot know the outcomes of our activities. They're unknowable. What we can do, however, is hold our intention clearly and constantly in everything we do. In what we say, how we say it, with whom with associate, what we wear, what we eat, how we live, how we travel. How we respect and listen to others. All these things reflect our intention.
It is our intention to make a new world, without knowing what that world will be."

While I was out walking this weekend, I listened to the birds. I was reminded of the canary effect for miners, and realised again how true this was for our current time in space: the little things are trying to tell us something. The lichens, the birds, the bees. These little beings are no lesser, only in mass. They are still part and parcel of our greater, global community. Alice Walker's interview in the Elephant iterates safety in numbers:

"If you are just for yourself, then you're really nothing. We're only something if we're something together."

After all, we are distinctly different, yet inextricably interconnected in the tangled web of this global ecosystem. Yet, if we are in control of our destiny, then we can turn this ship around, or at least be ready for the big shifts that may be coming and will call for seismic paradigm shifts from the national average way of going.

11.4.07 | Voluntary Simplicity

"True affluence is not needing anything." -- Gary Snyder, from Four Changes, written in 1969

11.1.07 | Empty thoughts

This was in Rob B's luv letter this week. It reminded me of backpacking:

"I like to live in the sound of water, in the feel of mountain air. A sharp reminder hits me: this world is still alive; it stretches out there shivering toward its own creation, and I'm a part of it. Even my breathing enters into an elaborate give-and-take, this bowing to sun and moon, day or night,
winter, summer, storm, still –- this tranquil chaos that seems to be going somewhere. This wilderness with a great peacefulness in it. This motionless turmoil, this everything dance."

From Wiliam Stafford, "Time for Serenity, Anyone?" from the book Even in Quiet Places

10.31.07 | Full Moons

Last week, we spent less than 48 hrs at Ten Thousand Waves Spa, and it felt like a week had passed with nothing but empty thoughts. We were massaged and oiled and soaked in hot tubs. We siesta'd. (I brought the juicer.) We ventured down to the Plaza for meaty meals for Special K, while I stifled my lust at all things Sante Fe and for sale. Then, we'd stride up to the spa from our casita, in our kimono robes, and would soak some more. Suits were only required in the communal tub after 8:15 PM... many moons until then.

I learned that some spa treatments I would pass up if I ever go back. I also had one of the best massages ever, and I'd go back just for that. My master masseuse had lived in Santa Fe for 40 years and had learned his craft from varied healing sources before massage schools were the ticket. He suspected that while I sit at my desk all day, I must not be aligned properly -- something must be off perhaps. We discussed the nature of habits, and forming them, and how to stay in your body, aware of your body, while absorbed in what's on the computer screen. "So many people who come here are quite lifeless from the neck down..." he said. "Oh, but the body has always been subjugated..." I replied. A grand conversation while getting a fabulous rub down was a significant way to re-member this, a big theme is my thesis past.

By the end of 40 hours in spa-space, I found myself fighting re-entry depression and anxious to just leave and get on with real life again. Glowing, we headed down to Albuquerque for a brief romp in the high desert 'hood. I snaped some picts of Mom's finished works for her up-and-coming-website-re-do, and then the girls ventured down to Tingley Colliseum for the big Arabian Horse Show -- the last year US Nationals would be held in ABQ.

I loved every minute of the show, despite the fact that it made me yearn for a horse between my legs (an arabian if I could be picky). I would have even settled for saddle seat. We saw many familiar faces (and were sitting up from the Cedar Ridge crew), and some extremely breathtaking horses. Horse that performed to the hilt, and seemed to enjoy every stride, as it seemed effortless. I guess that was the cause for many unanimous champions & reserves. I missed the elegance and simplicity of Ted Carson's halter handling, but he still stands fresh in my mind as a radically accomplished handler for Arabian halter horses. Both the horses and the riders seemed remarkably polished -- many of my past peeves were no longer peevishly present regarding the horse's visible stress levels and poor horsemanship. This restored my faith in the arabian horse world. AFire Bey V (Varian bred) had many get strutting their stuff around the green carpeted ring with incredible flair. I've had a Crush (with a capital C) on this big boy for a while... and his babies are just as stunning and solid.

Someday, someday, I told myself. It's only a matter of time before the pitter patter of horse hoofs behoove my daily happenings. Until then, dreams are cheap.

10.19.07 | say cheese

Some picts from the soiree on Sept. 2 are up here. We may have more picts up when more people send me their images, for it was a wedding party sans photographer. The current ones are from Aunt Dee.

Next week, on Wednesday, we're taking off waay early to head down to Santa Fe to celebrate honeymooning at Ten Thousand Waves Spa. It's going to be a rough schedule of 2.5 days of massages and facials and hot baths...but I think I'll be able to survive. We'll see. It will be a nice change to reside in the spiritous desert for a while. Then, we'll abscond from the spa and venture to Albuquerque for a nite. The girls will go to pre-finals night at the Tingley Colliseum for Arabian Nationals. A lucky coincidence for this girl.

10.19.07 | one fell shmoop

Have you ever heard that song from Moby's album 18, We Are All Made of Stars? Howard Bloom, courtesy of Rob B's book, Pronoia, seconds that notion:

"Ancient stars in their death throes spat out atoms like iron which this universe had never known. The novel tidbits of debris were sucked up by infant suns which, in turn, created yet more atoms when their race was run. Now the iron of old nova coughings vivifies the redness of our blood.

"If stars step constantly upward, why should the global interlace of humans, microbes, plants, and animals not move upward steadily as well? The horizons toward which we must soar are within us, anxious to break free, to emerge from our imaginings, then to beckon us forward into fresh
realities.

"We have a mission to create, for we are evolution incarnate. We are her self-awareness, her frontal lobes and fingertips. We are second-generation star stuff come alive. We are parts of something 3.5 billion years old, but pubertal in cosmic time. We are neurons of this planet's interspecies mind." —Howard Bloom, Global Brain: The Evolution of Mass Mind from
the Big Bang to the 21st Century

10.18.07 | Turning

Namaste fellow bloggies, and welcome to the fresh release of season four complete with a face lift and haute chocolate and foot rubs. ebullience, ebullience.

Season four promises to celebrate all things lovely and rad; pose and ponder exciting new ideas deemed dangerous and defiant; mingle with mystical allusions; tingle with peppermint soap; discuss the green, the raw, the naked and the simple theories that come to life; and continue to wax poetic about divine fabulousness, like organic vegan cookies and wool and the rockin vibes of PY the great, all with irreverent honesty, full of gratitude and the cheeky wit of ancient ageless wisdoms.

Continually devoid of additives, artificial colors or flavors, trans fats and processed nibbles, this is no sacccarin coated blog, and we've eternally vowed to all the deities to keep it that way in a bodhisattvic sense. Life cycles in its roundabout sprial with us in tow, lest we ever forget that we are part and parcel of sweaty, muddy, bloody, breathing nature.

By raining and raging new ideas, growing, shedding old selves, relieving old myths, imagining new ones, embracing paradox with effevescent giggles, we can see that truth stays put like a fluttering butterfly in the spring. This wee teeming manifesto pledges to one unboundaried truth: to be true to yourself, your soul, your perceptual experience in your luscious body. You are the universe.

D.H. Lawrence said, "Be still when you have nothing to say; [but] when genuine passion moves you, say what you've got to say, and say it hot."

With a pending election, the earth being hotter than is should be, and all this talk about the end of the world as we've known it, let's let passion move us. Let's say it hot. In the spirit of global cooling and paradigm shifts to a cooler worldview (and a realization that should trickle down to our barest habits), let's resurrect this thesis tid-bit for some green meditational luvin:

"In the oldest religion, everything was alive, not supernaturally but naturally alive...For the whole life-effort of man was to get his life into contact with the elemental life in the cosmos, mountain-life, cloud-life, thunder-life, air-life, earth-life, sun-life. To come into immediate felt contact, and so derive energy, power and a dark sort of joy. This effort into sheer naked contact, without an intermediary or mediator is the root meaning of religion." - D.H. Lawrence